


Mary, Queen of Hearts

by smack



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 07:36:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smack/pseuds/smack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Eleanor Morstan knows she wants to marry a doctor. Love doesn't always do as expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mary, Queen of Hearts

At the ripe and grown up age of seven, Mary Eleanor Morstan knows she wants to marry a doctor. Her father is always talking about how they must get all the money in the world. He has severe health issues and takes Mary to visit the nurses every time he goes and she becomes less sensitized to the working world of a hospital. She gets to learn all the nurses by name and unlike most children of her age, she enjoys the clean brightness. When she meets her father's doctor, Mary is sold on the idea of marrying him. She also doesn't blame him when her father's medicines stop working right and he dies sometime just before her 18th birthday.

At the mature and wise age of 19, Mary Morstan is out with her university friends for a night on the town. They pass up restaurants and café's and seek out the loudest, most up-beat club they can find. Sometime after her third or fourth beer, Mary realizes there is something wrong with her friend Amanda. The girl is pale and looks like she might pass out on the dance floor. It is up to Mary to drag her friend outside, into a taxi and to the hospital.

Her friend ends up needing her stomach pumped and Mary, who feels fine even if she is swaying a bit, chats up the male nurse in the room. Amanda rests and the nurse gets Mary some water. When the doctor comes in to tell her that Amanda will continue to be fine, as long as she watches her drinking habits, Mary finds that doctors are very useful. Her decision to marry one is strengthened by this thought.

After that fateful night, Mary changes her mind about becoming a doctor and instead becomes a sort of teacher. A governess for a rich family that homeschools. She is paid well and is free to follow her own pursuits in her free time. More often than not, she spends that free time in the Children's Ward at St. Bart's.

She is in her late twenties when the lift breaks down and she is forced to use the stairs. Spiraling down the plain white corridor, her mind drifts off and she catches herself daydreaming. She pauses in one landing, checking the floor number, only to find she's gone down one flight too many by accident.

Huffing to herself about her silliness, she almost misses the flash of black that shoots past the window. The flash is followed by a walking man who glances in as she stares out. He pauses and does a double take. Glancing again down the hall to where his friend had run, he turns to the stairs and opens the door.

"Excuse me, Are you lost?" he asks looking around the staircase landing. Mary opens her mouth to reply when a shout from the hallway startles her.

"John! I found it! It must have been the step-sister's aunt." the flash of black, also known as Sherlock Holmes, stands next to his friend. Mary blinks at him, recognizing him even without his funny hat.

"You're Sherlock Holmes!" she whispers reverently. Her eyes turn to John. "And you're Doctor Watson." her eyes blink wide. "Oh. My." Sherlock is busy at his phone and so he doesn't see John look Mary up and down interestedly. Mary does and she blushes slightly.

Her hand reaches out to the blogger. "My name is Mary, and no, I'm not lost." John smiles and opens his mouth to say more when Sherlock tugs on his shirt sleeve.

"John! We have to go now." Sherlock walks away, dancing almost, and Mary watches John argue with himself.

"My name is John, obviously, Ehm, I know we've only just met, but do you want to catch dinner sometime?" Mary is taken back and flattered immediately.

"Yes, yeah Ok." she says, almost as if her mouth had run away with her. "Yes I would love to." John pulls out a card and a pen.

"Here my number is on this, you can call anytime." He grinned adorably at her and then took off after his friend. Mary stood there, in the stairway landing, shocked for several minutes. Then she whooped softly and jumped. Her eyes bright, she made her way back to the lobby floor.

Sherlock was not just a friend of John's, Mary discovered. They were like the same person, with different personalities and natures. The same person, and yet incredibly different. She supposed that Sherlock and John had been living together for so long that they just synchronized, like music. Both doing different things at the same time and in harmony. She wasn't offended. She was actually quite content with their similarities because she was blissful in dating the doctor.

Sometimes, she'd catch Sherlock watching her. He never said anything, but as months turned to a year, Sherlock watched her very carefully. John also watched her, like he wasn't sure how she existed. She was forgiving of his antics, being late to dates or not showing up at all, and she was understanding on why he couldn't stay in bed without checking on Sherlock every few hours. In fact, it was her ability to accept Sherlock himself that John believed saved their relationship.

"I don't know how you do it." he told her once as they were sitting watching telly. It was shortly after their first year anniversary. "You're the longest relationship I've had since I met Sherlock." He stared at her in awe. "How did I come to deserve you?"

She smiled up at him contentedly as he stroked her hair. "I don't have family." John gave her a confused look. She giggled. "I mean, I don't have siblings. I've never had cousins or aunts or uncles. My parents are long dead and I am nearly alone in the world." She settled into John's chest. "I guess I can understand that family is the most important thing in the world. And I don't think you could love Sherlock more if he was your real brother." John rolls his eyes.

"I've told everyone that I'm not gay. I don't love Sherlock." Mary smiled at him again.

"I'd hope you weren't totally gay, but you do love Sherlock. You love every bit of him as much as you love me." She turned her eyes to the television. "I love you John, and I understand that in order to make you happy, you need to make sure Sherlock is happy first and foremost. I don't mind, as long as I get my share of John." She snuggled into his side and he held her continuing with his bewildered look as she drifted off to sleep.

She knows Sherlock has never really liked her. He's tolerated her, and after the first three months he stopped insulting her intelligence. She'd proven she wasn't stupid, though she'd admitted she wasn't as smart as Sherlock himself. Mostly he left her alone. However one night, when John had a late shift and Mary was at 221 B Baker street waiting for him, Sherlock stumbles into the kitchen.

He squints at her. "What are you doing here?" He mumbled. "You don't live here yet." Having quit her previous governess job months ago for some light house watching, Mary has not needed the foresight that most child caregivers have. Something about Sherlock is wrong.

"Sherlock? What's the matter?" Having only actually talked to him by herself a few times she doesn't know if gasping is the usual way he responds to questions. She thinks not when he loses his balance and takes his hand out from inside his coat to steady himself. The hand, and the glove covering it, are soaked in blood.

"Oh god! Sherlock! What happened?" she reached for him and he recoiled. "Stop that, let me help. I have to call John. Lestrade, he'd know." She is at him and has his phone in her hand before his swirling vision can account for her having moved. The two men are called, though Sherlock doesn't remember most of it. Mary jolts into action when the tall man's eyes roll up and he collapses onto the ground. She catches his head and protects it, laying it in her lap as she sits on the floor and inspects his wound.

The wound is bleeding profusely and she presses down on it to help staunch the flow. Sherlock comes to once, when she starts singing lullabies to him. Silly children's songs from her days as a governess. He seems to take to them, because soon his eyelashes flutter and his body becomes slightly less tense. The blood slows and the ambulance comes to take him away.

Directly after that, John knows she is the one. Mary is an almost constant presence in their humble home. She is up and busy, getting Sherlock food or drinks. Helping him get up and use the rest room or just walk around, despite the Doctor's orders. She even meets Mycroft, which only two of John's other Girlfriends have managed. She and Mycroft don't get on for the first few days due to a slight misunderstanding and Mycroft's silent traveling ways. Soon even the 'Iceman' is chatting meaninglessly with her.

She and Sherlock bond over this incident. And over the many games of Chess that they play. Sherlock has to teach her how to play and even with the insider knowledge on his favorite moves, she never lasts more that a minute though she gets better every day. She tells him he has to get well, so they can play out on the sofa.

Three weeks after Sherlock had been stabbed, the three are sitting on the couch watching crap telly. Sherlock, who insists that his mind had turned to mush in the days he's been bed ridden, is glazed over with narcotics, pain meds as he calls them. John couldn't care less at his stoned state because he is too shocked at Sherlock's head resting in his girlfriend's lap. She is tucked into his side, under his arm and her hands are combing through Sherlock's messy curls. She is humming under her breath, softly, so John can just barely make out the tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle." Sherlock's eyelids grow heavy and he begins to doze, his head in her lap and her humming nursery rhymes at him. John is astonished.

Mary is certain that John is going to ask her the most important question of her life. She's always been a romantic at heart, and the fact that she was going to marry her doctor was like a dream come true. When she steels out of their room at three in the morning she is surprised that Sherlock is also up.

He is eating Pineapple ice cream, John's favorite. "Mary." he greets with a wave of his spoon. He pulls out another and Mary realizes that somewhere along the way, Sherlock has come to care for her too.

"Good Morning, Sherlock. Did you solve that case with the emerald yet?" Sherlock smirked and nodded.

"Simple. The emerald had actually been eaten by the dog and not dropped in the river like everyone had suspected." He shrugged. "It was a level four case, but I needed to get out of the house." he glanced at her and then away uncomfortable. Mary stared at the floor with a blush coloring her cheeks.

"Ah, sorry about that." She rubbed at the back of her neck. " John and I haven't been able to see much of each other for the last few days." She shrugs and they sit in silence for a minute. "SO, why are you up so early." Sherlock squints at the clock on the oven.

"Haven't been to bed yet." he shrugged. "I was going to eat this and then return to my experiments." Mary sighed.

"Do you want me to come sing to you?" Sherlock stared, and stared, and stared until Mary became slightly uncomfortable. Slowly he nodded.

"That would be much appreciated." Mary smiles and grabs his hand. He is startled and he watches her, waiting for her move. She pulls him back to his bedroom and settles herself against the headboard. Patting her lap she motions for him to lay his head down on it. He does so, cautiously. She runs her fingers through his hair and hums to him until he can keep his eyelids open no longer.

When Mary wakes, she takes a look around and laughs at herself for falling asleep in Sherlock's room while singing to him. Her legs and back are cramped, but Sherlock's head still rests in her lap and his soft breathing sounds are musical to her ears. She worries for her tall brilliant friend. He doesn't sleep enough and she is loath to wake him.

When John's curious peek reveals his girlfriend and his best friend in the same bed, John does not get worried. He is sure he's the only person in the world who wouldn't freak out at this scenario. Instead, he smiles, shuts the door and goes on to make coffee and breakfast. He's become oddly domestic since he found out that Mary burns anything she cooks, regardless of her using an oven or microwave.

Sherlock wakes sometime after five in the afternoon. Mary has manipulated herself to a position that doesn't cut off circulation and is kinder on her spine. She is ruffling his hair with her breath and he had wrapped arms around her to keep her close. Carefully, and quietly, he releases his teddy bear and stealthily moves from the bed. John is in the front room, multitasking with his computer, a book, the telly on and his cellphone pressed to his ear.

"Yes, Thanks Harry. I can come pick it up this afternoon." He nodded at Sherlock, "Yes, Harry, I have to go now. I love you too, see you." John smiled at him and placed the phone on the side table.

"Have a good lie in?" he asked. Sherlock rubbed his eyes.

"Yes, Your girlfriend sang me to sleep." he curled up on the couch in his dressing gown. "John," he asked. John turned to see Sherlock's expression a mixture of worry, shock and something that might be called fear. "John, you know me. I don't ask stupid questions." John nodded.

"What is it Sherlock?"

"Is it...Would you say… I think…" Sherlock swallowed. "I think I'm in love with… someone. But I don't know for sure. I mean I could quote chemicals and reactions, but the feeling. How do you know?" John stared at his roommate.

"How do you know if you're in love?" John clarified. Sherlock nodded helplessly. "Well, it’s a kind of bottom of your stomach feeling. Almost like you've eaten something bad, but then it just grows and grows and it feels like a plant growing inside of you with some kind of magic because it just shoots up. And you can feel it in your heart. It gets all off rhythm around the person." Sherlock's face had been getting more pale by the second.

"I don't wish to alarm you," Sherlock said quietly. John recognized this as his 'I'm so sorry.' voice. "but I seem to have fallen in love with your Mary." Sherlock stared at the floor, committing it to memory only to delete it and re commit it again. John was silent for a long while.

"Sherlock, I think even Mycroft is in love with her a bit." Sherlock's eyes shot to John's.

"John, you know he's… well…" John nodded.

"He bats for the other team, even I know that." John shook his head. "What I'm saying is, I don’t mind. Actually, I think I'd be offended if my best mate weren't in love with my girlfriend." he glanced at the queasy look on Sherlock's face. "And seeing from your expression, you don't particularly like this do you?"

"I'm Sherlock Holmes. I don't have a heart and I don't need love." Sherlock's queasy look intensified.

Mary woke to an empty room. She stood stretched and yawned trying to get the pain out of her back. Feeling the chill that meant Sherlock had opened a window, she pulled on one of his dressing gowns. In the living room, John and Sherlock sat on the couch.

"Good morning John. Sherlock, you don't look well." she frowned at the detective. Reaching out she felt his forehead with the back of her hand. He glanced up at her, his grey eyes full of fright. Gently, he removed her hand and leapt from the couch.

"Sorry, so little to do in so much time. I have to…" and he was gone, out of 221 Baker Street. Mary watched him go, puzzled.

"Did I say something wrong?" She asked her boyfriend. He shook his head.

"Why are you wearing a dressing gown?" he asked. She glanced down.

"Sherlock opened a window and I was cold." She shrugged. "It wasn't being used." John stared at Mary for a moment.

"Marry me." It was Mary's turn to stare.

"What?"

"Mary Morstan, Marry me." Mary yelped and grabbed John in a hug.

"Yes! Yes of course!"

Sherlock came home late that night. His eyes were shifty and he was hesitant to pass any door. Mary sat in the living room reading one of the new James Patterson books. She glanced up as he passed by the door. "Sherlock! Feeling better?" she asked. He nodded tersely and moved on.

Mary stood and followed him. "Sherlock? Do you want to play Chess? I was looking at some new moves on the web." He shook his head. "John asked me to marry him." she said. Sherlock froze. "I guess you already knew that though." He glanced her over. New hair, nails newly manicured, bauble ring… Sherlock's head froze as his heart stuttered.

"I figured John wouldn't tell you because He'd already think you knew." Sherlock unfroze and reached for the door to his bedroom. "I told him I wanted to live here, with you." she told him. "He was talking daftly, saying we were going to get a house somewhere. But I know him. I know he wouldn't last a day without you or you without him."

Sherlock turned to stare at her. "John is my only friend. Or he was, before he met you." he looked into her eyes. "I think you should find a house. Go live with John somewhere in the country. You'd both like that." He turned from her again and she reached out to his shoulder.

"Sherlock. I want to stay with you. John and I want to stay with you. We both love you too much to leave you alone here." Sherlock gave her a startled look.

"If you mean to imply that I need a housekeeper, I might remind you that I have Mrs. Hudson." he turned and shrugged. "I'll make due. You will be newly weds and I would hate for you to disturb my experiments."

"Sherlock! Will you look at me?" she said in her rarely used 'matron' voice. "we want to live with you." his shoulder in her hand tensed. She swung him around and grabbed his face. "Sherlock, we love you." she said staring into his eyes. "Meaning that John and I love you." she pulled his head down and kissed him.

Sherlock froze against her. Then he relaxed and settled into a rhythm. Then his mind returned and he exploded back. "John." he whispered. Then dashed into his room. Mary sighed.

When John arrived home, he took one look at his fiancé's face and cringed. "It didn't go well then?" he asked. She shook her head. Tears came into her eyes.

"He ran away. What kind of person convinces themselves they don't need love?" she clutched at John and he cradled her onto his shoulder.

"It'll be alright, love." He whispered into her hair. She spent the night in John's room, while John waited Sherlock out on the couch. Finally, around dawn, Sherlock quietly opened his door. Spotting John on the couch, he almost slammed the door again.

"Sherlock?" John called. The other man winced and turned to face his flat mate.

"John. Good morning." the consulting detective shuffled past. "Did you, ehm, sleep well?" he asked.

"Sherlock, I know Mary kissed you." Sherlock froze and winced again.

"I promise it won't happen again. If you want to stay here, I can find another flat. Mrs. Hudson says her cousin has a place down by the Thames." Sherlock rubbed the back of his neck. "I can go there just-"

"Sherlock!" John yelled. "its alright." he walked up to the tall wavering man. "I told her it was alright. She loves you just as much as she loves me." John smiled. "I never thought I'd be alright with an open relationship, but its really the best thing for us." he smiled up into Sherlock's bewildered face.

"I… don't…" Sherlock stuttered. He blinked his blue eyes and John rolled his own browns. He pulled the man toward him by the back of his neck and kissed him as soundly as Mary had. This time, however, Sherlock knew roughly what to expect. His hands reached forward and thrust themselves into John's hair. John pulled back and Sherlock panted. "Not good?" he asked nerves cracking his voice.

"No, very good. I was just checking with you on the good part." Sherlock sighed and leant his head on John's shoulder.

"Very good here too." he said. His voice was rough.

"Better?" Mary asked from the stairway. Sherlock felt John nod and Mary approached him from behind. Sliding her arms around his waist she sighed into his back. "Do you understand now?" she asked. She giggled when she felt his nod. "Good, can we go to bed now?" she yawned. "I'm a bit exhausted and I have work tomorrow." she patted Sherlock's back and he turned to face her for the first time. "Do you believe me when I say We love you now?" she asked with a gentle smile.

Sherlock hugged her and she gripped him back. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him and he pulled the doctor into the bedroom across the hall.

Sherlock had the more comfortable bed after all.

  
Epilogue - of sorts.

Two months after the wedding photos had been reported lost in the mail, a package arrived at 221b Baker St. Sherlock, who was the only one in residence at the time signed for the package and opened it on his desk. When a box of photos was revealed under the packaging, Sherlock smiled softly.

He opened it and on top, the first picture in the lot, was a captured laugh between two dapperly dressed men and one beautiful woman in white. John on the left and Sherlock on the right, both holding Mary. The bride herself was laughing hysterically, trying to fight away from her two new favorite boys as they each swooped in for a kiss on her lucky day. The next showed them in front of the small pond at the tiny reception. Each had a loving expression on their faces, much to Sherlock's surprise.

"Sherlock! Love, I'm home." Mary called from the front door.

"Here, Mary." he called. She hugged him, leaning over the desk.

"The pictures arrived! That’s wonderful. Amanda was just asking about them." Mary kissed his cheek, taking her scarf and laying it out on his bed.

"Mary? Sherlock?" John called. "Pictures?"

"Welcome home, Darling." Mary smiled. Sherlock glanced back at the pictures and smiled his slightly happier expression.

"What, no hello Kiss?" John pouted. Mary grinned and smooched exaggeratedly on his pout. Sherlock also stood and gave his own welcome.

Watching them, she gave a prayer of thanks to her father, who had so long ago recommended she marry a doctor.


End file.
